


Potatoes

by LeFay_Strent



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff, M/M, moxiety - Freeform, no potatoes were harmed in the making of this story, touches of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeFay_Strent/pseuds/LeFay_Strent
Summary: Virgil has worries for days, but there's only one thing that truly scares him.





	Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> No potatoes were harmed in the making of this story.

“You’re not even scared of spiders?”

“No, not really.”

“Is there anything that _does_ scare you?”

“I mean, sure.”

“What do you find scarier than anything else then?”

“. . . Patton,” Virgil answered.

The others laughed. Virgil wasn’t laughing. He let them have their fun.

He took a sip of his drink and let his gaze wander across the room where more friends had gathered in the kitchen. Glimpses of the ball of sunshine in question caught his eye. Glasses pushed up in curly hair, eyelids closed and smears of yellow cake frosting highlighting his cheek. Unabashed giggles spilling past smiling lips.

Patton would laugh all the more if he’d heard Virgil’s confession.

He would push Virgil’s shoulder, playful and gentle, and Virgil would let him. Virgil would let him brush it aside as long as it meant he kept smiling. As long as it meant Patton glowed happily, spread that warmth to Virgil, and remained none the wiser of how much power he truly held.

Spiders weren’t scary. People who did terrible things weren’t scary.

People who were kind, they were scary.

Not just polite, but compassionate with complete sincerity. A giving hand that you never had to reach out for. Minds that spared no second-thought to do a good deed and souls that burned all the brighter for it.

These people, they couldn’t be bought, bribed, or reasoned with. That’s not what they were after. Taking didn’t suit them, as human as they were—Oh, but humans, selfish by nature, bound by desire. They were human too. No matter how different their desires, they must still want something.

Virgil just didn’t know what.

The party continued, voices ebbing and flowing, music an ever-present buffer to fill out the gaps. Noises grew too loud, conversation too demanding.

Virgil slipped away to the back porch. There were no stars or clouds to get lost in, but neither were there people. Just him, a lawn chair, his drink, and the refreshing chill in the air. It was too cold, the wooden slab of his seat freezing beneath him.

He breathed in the sharp air, let it fill his lungs, holding for longer than he needed but shorter than he wanted. 

His thoughts evened out. The taut elastic band around his heart loosened.

He sighed and took a sip. If he cared to, he could sit out here all night. Not part of the party, yet not having gone entirely. Just hovering on the edge.

Virgil relaxed, head tilted back and face skyward. He blinked lazily for a long time before another face appeared over his to block the view.

“I found you,” he spoke softly, teasingly. Pleased with himself and pleased all the more because it was Virgil who he found.

 _Patton_.

“Hm, don’t tell anyone,” Virgil said. It’d be a bother right now if the others were to come out and bring all the clamor with them. But Patton was different. Patton was okay.

Patton chuckled deep from his chest, arms crossed over the top of Virgil’s seat, and he wondered if he imagined feeling the vibrations from the lovely sound. A melody, both grounding and groundbreaking, settling in the depths of Virgil’s stomach and bringing back that now familiar warmth.

“My lips are sealed,” Patton promised, going so far as to mime zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key. He glanced up around them to take in the tarp-covered pool, surrounding flowerbeds, and the line of trees in the distance. “Seen any fireflies?”

“No. Might be too cold for them.”

“It is pretty chilly out here,” Patton agreed. He looked back down at Virgil, eyes roving over his body in a way that Virgil consciously had to tell himself to not squirm or overthink. “How long have you been out here?”

He shrugged, allowing himself to bring his drink up to his mouth to have something to hide behind. “I don’t know. A while. Haven’t been paying attention.”

Patton’s fingers were suddenly pressed against his cheek, the knuckles resting like fire against icy skin.

“You’re cold,” Patton murmured, the worried inflection of his words tangling in Virgil’s belly in the most complicated ball of yarn, trapping the butterflies there and ensuring that they were there to stay.

And just like that the heat against his cheek was gone. Patton didn’t think twice about untying the cardigan he wore around his neck. He shook it out and draped it over Virgil like a blanket.

“Where’d your hoodie run off to?” Patton asked conversationally, as if he hadn’t just did things to Virgil that he could never understand. “You usually always wear it.”

“Left it in the car,” Virgil answered absently, caught up in staring at the man above him “Didn’t think I’d need it.”

“Lucky I’m here then.” Patton grinned. He returned to his position behind Virgil’s chair, arms once again crossed on the back rest so close that Virgil could feel where his hair tickled them. There were other chairs Patton could sit in. He didn’t need to stand by him like this. He didn’t need to be this close.

Virgil didn’t tell him these things.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Virgil asked. Questioned. Begged to know.

The corners of Patton’s eyes crinkled, fondness clear as day. “It’s easy.”

No, it wasn’t. Virgil knew himself. He _knew_ himself, and he knew people, and he knew how quickly anger could scald. How hate could overrun. How simple it could be, to just not give a damn. To make someone hurt for no reason other than because you can.

People like Patton were scary. Because they could offer the shirts from their backs and call it easy. They could smile at you like it didn’t cost them. Like they didn’t know the rest of the world didn’t work like that.

Like they genuinely wanted you to be warm and safe and happy. Sharing their time, laughter, cardigans, and fond gazes because they really cared, not because they wanted your heart.

But Virgil would give his anyways.

And that scared him. Because people like Patton, they _moved_ you. They made you forget how dim and bleak life had been before them.

And yet, in the pit of his stomach and the forefront of his mind, Virgil knew without a doubt, how much worse life could be after Patton. After Virgil had experienced this warmth and was left shattered when none was left.

Had Virgil been smarter, he would have run away the first moment he laid eyes on him.

But Patton was here now, and his cardigan still lay over him, cozy and wonderful. Virgil might not know exactly what Patton hoped to gain, but as he said, he knew himself. He knew himself to be human, and he couldn’t help but be selfish.

Virgil carefully sat his drink on the ground beside him. Then he reached up to tug at Patton’s wrist pointedly, beseechingly. Patton’s eyes widened momentarily, catching on to what Virgil silently asked for. He wasn’t the type to initiate affection. Patton knew that, and he wasn’t letting this moment go to waste either. 

Arms came down to circle around Virgil. Arms laying solid and real across his chest. Arms caging him, protecting him.

Arms that were frightfully warm.

**Author's Note:**

> "But LeFay, there weren't any potatoes."
> 
> I did say no potatoes were harmed in the making of this story.


End file.
